Night
by MsLyoness
Summary: Rg Veda: She muses as he sleeps, and knows that some things are eternal. Same couple as To Love the Sky Queen.


So, I wrote this little story over Christmas, and figured I might as well post it here. It's set sometime between chapters one and two of "To Love the Sky Queen", but it can stand alone. If you've read that one, you know the pairing. If not, well…you'll figure it out soon enough.

I do not own "Rg Veda" or any characters mentioned in this fic. They belong to CLAMP. All I own are plans for a very long "Rg Veda" doujinshi and a couple pieces of fanart.

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Silk drapes around the room, hanging from the ceiling, white and sheer, shrouding her figure as she sits in silence. It's dark, blurring the lines of the blue and white objects she keeps there. She is grateful for the dark; it makes it easier for him to come to her unnoticed.

Clothes lie strewn on the floor, her robes mixed with his cruel, spiked armor, gleaming faintly in the moonlight that seeps through her open window. They are the finest clothes available; being who they are, they are required to wear the bejeweled garments. But now she wears nothing, and the cool air from outside caresses her bare skin.

Silence reigns save for his breathing, deep and regular in sleep, and the faint sigh of the wind. She loves the wind, loves him, loves the scent of their lovemaking that still lingers in the air, hours after the act was completed.

She lies back against the soft pillows piled at the head of her bed. She breathes deep, tasting the fresh air, the scent of incense and the perfume she anoints herself with. There is a feeling of secrecy here, a feeling that stays with her even as she invites the servants is, which she will do once the sun rises and he is gone.

Her bed is magnificent, a work of art covered in hangings that she hasn't bothered to close. No one will come in when her door is locked, they respect her wishes.

She gets up, throwing off the silken sheets, and strides to the balcony, gazing into the night. Far below she can see the ground, the plains and forests, and the towns.

"Karura?" His voice floats to her, sleepy yet concerned. "What's wrong?" She turns. "Nothing. I was just…nothing's wrong." He gazes at her for a moment, brow slightly furrowed. Her eyes wander over his form: his bare, muscular chest, his broad shoulders and tan skin, scarred from many, many battles. Her gaze traces his face, starting with the jewel and tattoos on his forehead, moving on to golden, half-shut eyes, then following the bridge of his nose down to his surprisingly sensual lips. She knows it well, knows the feel of his skin, the soft texture of his beard. She knows the exact places where lines will appear as he smiles and the sensation of bone under skin on his high cheekbones.

Her eyes lift to meet his, and she smiles slightly. "Nothing's wrong, Zouchouten."

He is silent. He is not usually so. In public, his deep voice booms over the hubbub of the court and the battlefield as he issues commands.

His voice scared her when she first met him, as a young girl introduced to her father's commanding officer. He had been younger then, his face so far unmarked by lines of care and worry. But he was still huge, towering over her small form.

"This is my daughter, Karura. Karura, this is General Zouchouten of the Southland."

She'd gazed solemnly up at him, determined not to be afraid. Suddenly he'd smiled, and gone down on one knee to bring himself to her level. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Karura," he'd rumbled. "Some day you'll take your father's place as Guardian Warrior of the South."

She'd smiled then. "It's a pleasure to meet you too, General." She'd meant it. Despite his fearsome appearance, she trusted him at once. She never knew why she did so at first, but as the years went by and she grew in strength and prowess, he was always there. He'd protected her during her first battle, been there for her when she wept for killing her first man.

Time had changed them both. She is now just a little younger than he had been when they'd first met. He can no longer be called young, but can't be called old either. She is passionate, and powerful, and he…he lacks the zeal for war he had had years ago. But he is still powerful, as those around him would do well to remember. There is still passion there, but it is now directed at her, at their love.

It _is_ love, deep, all-consuming, ravenous love. She knows it, she feels it every time their eyes meet, their hands touch, they lie together.

He had come to her tonight like before, a spell cast around the bird she had given him to hide them as they flew to her. She'd greeted him on the balcony, kissing him before he was even fully out of the saddle. He'd responded forcefully, hungrily, picking her up and carrying her to the bed.

Finally he speaks. "Come here." He reaches out his arms to her, pulling her down next to him on the extravagant bed. Brushing a stray hair out of her face, he whispers, "You know I can no longer sleep without you."

How long has this been going on? It feels like forever to her, yet it's only been a few months. The lovemaking, the secrecy, slipping into the other's room and leaving before dawn, it all feels so regular to her now, a habit.

She catches his hand in hers. They are so different, his large and tanned, hers slender and pale. Yet there are similarities: both have calluses from hard work, both are strong. Both have shed the blood of Tenkai's enemies, again and again and again, and both know places on the other's body that no one else has ever touched, will ever touch.

She traces his palm with a finger, mapping out the creases. "Reading my future?" he asks quietly, amused.

"No. I can't pretend to know what it holds," she replies seriously. He smiles slightly, then leans down to place a gentle kiss on her mouth. "Enough ruminating. You should sleep, Karura."

She too smiles, and gracefully falls back onto the pillows. He follows, wrapping her in his arms. As she drifts into slumber, she knows that despite what may come in time, whatever hardships they may face, this love, this moment, is eternal.

And it's perfect just the way it is.

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Hmm, not much of a plot, I'm afraid, but I think it's cute. And as always, drop me a well-written review and I'll draw you something! Yes, I _am_ desperate for feedback.


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